


Discord and Rhyme

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Begging, Biting, Claws and Fangs, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Marking, Multi, Nipple Play, OT3, Rare Pairings, Rimming, Spanking, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Werewolf Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2123238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the hallway, there's a door that's ajar, and there's a scent coming from it that Chris just has to follow. He somehow doesn't even hear the noises coming from it until he thoughtlessly pushes the door open. It takes a couple seconds for Chris to understand what he's seeing, Stiles' eyes closing as his hips stutter and hold against the man on the bed, who collapses once he's let go. Chris is frozen until the man lifts his head, and it's <em>Peter</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discord and Rhyme

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: stetopher with wolf!chris and nipple kink

Chris is bleeding out and they're never going to get to a doctor in time, there's screaming and shrieking and snarling and growling, and Chris's vision is black. He can hear Scott's voice, but it's far away, like the Alpha is in a tunnel and he can't quite make it out what Scott wants, but it's- Oh the bite, does he want the bite? _Does he?_

Chris thought he would welcome the sweet black oblivion, the cessation of pain, but now that he's there, he finds that there's a bit of life to him yet.

“Yeah,” he manages to breathe out, “Yeah, Scott. Go ahead.”

And then the searing sharp sensations of the Alpha's teeth breaching the skin of his shoulder breaks through the haze, and catapults him into darkness.

-

Chris knows it's worked the second he wakes up. Not only is he not in pain, but he finds himself assaulted with sounds and scents. He pushes up from the bed, carefully because he knows his strength is going to be greater now, and pads to the doorway.

Chris knows the entire process, intellectually, he's read all the literature, written a bit, himself, based on interviews with Isaac. But it didn't prepare him for the way that everything is more intense.

He recognizes the newly rebuilt Hale house from the hallway, considers for a moment and then goes back to sit down on the bed he'd been lying on.

Chris spends about a half hour practicing until he can make the claws come out at will, using the steely determination he's known for, and the mental discipline that's been trained in him from birth. Next he tries the hearing, and that's a bit more tricky. He thinks he hears something but it wavers and vanishes, and maybe that was a heartbeat? but it fades away as well. He feels a well of frustration, and then Chris hears himself snarl and the claws prick into the palms as he's making fists.

So everything he feels is heightened. Okay, Chris can deal with that. Stronger discipline is all that's needed. The hearing thing will take more practice.

Chris decides to work on scent next. He doesn't get much from the apparently unused room, so Chris returns to the hallway. He gets a better result there, classifying at least three distinct separate scents, but without the original source, Chris can't label them.

He moves further on down the hallway, stopping and sniffing periodically. At the end of the hallway, there's a door that's ajar, and there's a scent coming from it that Chris just _has_ to follow. He somehow doesn't even hear the noises coming from it until he thoughtlessly pushes the door open.

It takes a couple seconds for Chris to understand what he's seeing, Stiles' eyes closing as his hips stutter and hold against the man on the bed, who collapses once he's let go. Chris is frozen until the man lifts his head, and it's _Peter_.

Chris sees red, overwhelmed with possessiveness and _want_ , something dark inside him howling mine and mate, and Chris is in no way prepared to deal with this. He completely loses himself, subsumed in the wolf, and he's flying across the room, claws and fangs out, focused wholly on Stiles.

The next thing he knows is a blinding, searing pain in his head, and Chris crumples to the floor. It only lasts a few seconds, and then he's back on his feet, watching the snake tattoo on Stiles' left arm writhing as it settles back into place, as Stiles buttons up his jeans.

Chris shakes his head, confused at what just happened.

Back in human form he rises, Stiles watching him warily, braced to defend himself with magic once more. The new wolf thinks he's got himself under control until he looks at Peter, splayed out on the bed, until the scent of Peter mixed with Stiles hits him, and then the rage fills him once more.

He's up in Stiles' face in a heartbeat, snarling with fury.

“Peter is _mine_ ,” he slurs out through his fangs, trembling with the effort of holding himself back. And there's some part of Chris that's trying to tell him that no, Peter doesn't belong to him, _he doesn't even like the werewolf_ , but it's buried under instinct and impulse.

Stiles arches a brow, all lean muscle and arrogance, smirk slowly unfurling across his lips as several of his tattoos start glowing. “You try to fight me, Chris, and you will _lose_.” He presses a palm against Chris' chest and the surge of electricity coming from it makes the new beta take a step back.

As he does so, Peter's scent comes across his nostrils even more strongly, and he can't help but turn and look at the younger man on the bed.

“Oh don't mind me gentlemen, do continue.” Peter's lounging back, propped against the headboard with a pillow behind him, fist stripping his dick slowly as he watches the two of them argue.

Stiles tilts his head to look at Peter and then back at Chris. “Look at that greedy little _slut_.”

The Emissary takes a step closer as Chris' claws dig into the wooden frame of the foot-board, his voice getting lower but throbbing with approval as his gaze glides along Peter's body.

“I think he likes the idea of us fighting over him,” Stiles murmurs to Chris, eyes glimmering with a silver light as he watches Peter. “I wonder what he'd think about both of us having him. Together.”

For a split second, Chris' inner wolf snarls, demanding he and he alone lay claim to the shameless wolf arching into his fist in front of them. And then Peter _reacts_ to the idea, come arcing out over his fist and splattering onto his thighs.

“Ooh.” Stiles tilts his head and settles a hand on Chris' shoulder. “I think he likes that.”

He looks up, holds Peter's bright blue gaze. “Didn't you, Peter?”

Chris is tearing thick gauges in the wood as he struggles to control himself, focusing on Peter intently. He can see the semblance of Peter's public persona come back, the jut of chin, lift of head, but Stiles leans forward slightly.

“We would both be happy to leave right now.”

Chris isn't sure he can do that, but he finds something in him is willing to go through with this, as long as it means he can claim his mate. Wait, _mate_?, he doesn't really-

“Fine,” Peter says petulantly. He looks arrogantly from druid to werewolf. “I want you both to fuck me.”

Chris can't help the snort of amusement, because only Peter could say something like that and make it seem like he was doing _them_ a favor. And something in him settles, as he nods to the questioning look Stiles give him.

Simultaneously, they split, each going around a different side of the bed, and Peter looks first at Stiles, and then at Chris, the unnatural blue of his eyes the only thing that gives him away. Chris climbs onto the bed slowly, almost forgetting Stiles for a moment as he looms up over Peter.

And the other beta gives Chris a challenging look, and it rouses his wolf, the fangs come out, claws ripping into the blankets. Chris wonders for a moment what shade his own eyes are, but the thought skitters away as Peter deliberately tilts his head to the side. The wolf inside Chris howls in triumph and he gives into it as he leans forward and sinks his teeth into the corded muscle of that enticing neck.

Chris reaches for one of Peter's wrists, holding it in place as he slides his tongue along the bite mark, tasting a hint of coppery blood. “ _Mine_ ,” he growls low into Peter's ear before making another mark on the younger man's neck.

One the other side of Peter, the bear on Stiles' chest is rippling as he uses enhanced strength to pin Peter's other arm, his free hand reaching to flick one of Peter's nipples. A hiss comes from the beta and Stiles chuckles darkly. “Still sensitive, Peter?” The werewolf snarls softly at Stiles, but he's distracted by the scrape of teeth from Chris.

The druid drags a nail across the nipple in retaliation, over and over until Peter is twisting in their hold, bucking up as blunt human teeth sink into the sensitive peak just as Chris closes his teeth onto the crook of Peter's neck. He laves his tongue over the bite mark, then watching Stiles a moment, sees how Peter reacts to what the human is doing, and then lowers his own mouth onto the other nipple.

Peter's hard again already, hips jerking fruitlessly into the air. Stiles lifts up, rolls the tight bud between his long fingers. “You'll feel this tomorrow, Peter, those skintight shirts rubbing up against your nipples _all day_ , and you'll think of this here, the both of us, won't you?”

He twists and tugs and Peter arches up again, before Stiles' hand slides down the werewolf's body, lifting up and then coming down hard in an open-handed slap on the inside of Peter's thigh. The beta moans low in his throat as he twitches from the blow, and Stiles leans across to whisper into Chris' ear. “He likes it when it hurts.”

Chris lifts his face up, turns to look at Stiles a moment, eyes flicking down when the younger man licks his lip. Stiles arches a brow and tilts his head in question and Chris nods in answer. His fingers move to plucking at Peter's left nipple, while the other hand rests on Peter's thigh, claws sliding out to prick the werewolf's skin as Chris leans across and meets Stiles halfway.

Peter opens his eyes just in time to see the two men kissing across him, slow at first, then more intensely, and his cock jerks again, drooling precome as he watches, while they continue to torment his nipples and thighs.

And then they're parting, and both gazes look down at Peter, the pale and the dark, and he bites back a moan at being the object of such intense regard.

“Hands and knees,” Stiles says at last. “I want to fuck his mouth.” And Chris nods, like Peter doesn’t even have a say in it anymore, and he's not sure he does, because he's moving eagerly into position as soon as they let him free.

Stiles slips from the bed only for a second, to slide his clothing off, and then he's right there, feeding Peter his dick. And he's not gentle about it, Peter doesn't want gentle, he wants fast and fierce, and so he moans around the cock as Stiles fucks right into his throat, wraps those long elegant fingers around the outside and squeezes. Peter's so focused that the first blow from Chris comes as a surprise, and he jerks forward, choking himself even further on Stiles' length.

“Mm, he liked that, Chris, little pain slut here.” Stiles tugs on Peter's hair to demonstrate as he continues sliding in and out of Peter's mouth.

Chris rains down blows until Peter's ass is red and he can feel the heat from it as he rests his hands on the cheeks of Peter's ass and pulls him apart. Peter's hole is still puffy and leaking from Stiles, and Chris slides his thumbs in easily, pulling them apart as he slides his tongue between, curling it to press within. Chris cleans Peter, licks away every last hint of Stiles' scent, tongue delving in as deeply as he can, swirling inside Peter until he's whimpering around Stiles' dick, and Chris finally pulls back, lets go of Peter as he steps back from the bed.

Peter whines at the loss and Stiles smirks down at him. “Look at how eager you are for him, pup, your whole body begging for him to fuck you. I bet you want him to fill you up with his come.” Stiles jerks Peter's head back by his hair, until his mouth slides off Stiles dick with a pop.

Chris finishes stripping and stands at the side of the bed, glances at Stiles who grins wickedly.

“So lets hear it Peter, make us believe you want it.”

“Stiles,” Peter says breathlessly, “please.”

Stiles shakes his head, affecting an air of disappointment. “I don't think that was very heartfelt, do you?”

Chris' voice is a rough rumble as he agrees with Stiles, reaching a hand to squeeze Peter's cock, gives it a slow tug. “No, I don't think he wants it at all.”

It's until Peter's a writhing mess of desperation and pleading that they give him what he wants, Chris sliding into the beta's tight hole, while Stiles shoves his cock back down Peter's throat. The both fuck him hard and fast, Chris pulling Peter's hands up to hold them at the small of the beta's back, so that he can't touch himself.

Stiles is the first to finish, holding Peter's face tightly to him, one hand around the werewolf's throat, the other still fisted in Peter's hair as he pulses deep within the beta's throat. He pulls away, gasping as he flops backward after letting Peter go, and Stiles lays at the head of the bed, turning his attention to watching the two older men.

Chris' claws come out when he starts getting close, and he feels the prick of fangs piercing through his gums, and then instinct takes over. He drapes himself over Peter's back and bites the younger man hard at the base of his neck. And that's enough to send Peter over the edge and he shudders beneath Chris untouched, spilling onto the blankets.

Chris fucks him through it, jackrabbiting into the beta until he holds fast, claws raking down Peters' sides as Chris howls in triumph around the mouthful of the younger man's neck.

Gingerly, he pulls out with a hiss, then lays on his side, tugging Peter into his embrace. And Peter's not a cuddler, so he makes a token protest, but then Stiles moves, presses his front against Peter from the other side, after receiving a nods from Chris.

Chris reaches out across Peter, runs a thumb along Stiles cheek bone, and the druid's lips quirk in a smirk. He and Peter had just been fucking, no strings attached, but the druid has a feeling that everything is about to change.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


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